


Maybe You'll Tarry for a While

by okayokayigive



Series: And So I Leave You [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:39:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okayokayigive/pseuds/okayokayigive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why yes - this *is* the much-requested sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/763878">Her Lovers Drift by in Their Coats</a>! That makes it the second story in the And So I Leave You ‘Verse.</p><p>Donna, the Doctor, and Rose. The best of friends, making their own mistakes, over and over again. The years that follow Donna’s wedding are the best and the worst they’ll ever know - full of love, of loss, of distance, of heartache…and so many things they never saw coming.</p><p>  <em>“There’s nothing left, all gone and run away / Maybe you’ll tarry for a while / It’s just a test, a game for us to play / Win or lose it’s hard to smile / Resist, resist - it’s from yourself you have to hide / Come up and see me, make me smile / Or do what you want, run on wild”</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

_**Previously…** _

_“He’s just going to hurt her again, Donna.”_

_“Maybe. But you know what? You can’t put her on a shelf behind glass to keep her safe. She’s not a collectible doll, or some goddess on a pedestal for you to worship on special days. She’s a human woman, a young one at that, and she needs to make her own mistakes.”_

_“Now go on,” Donna gestured in the direction of the dance floor. “Why not go try to make some mistakes of your own?”_

_The Doctor looked at the woman he loved, smiling in someone else’s arms. He looked at Donna and her eyes full of pity. Finally, he looked down at his very manly cocktail (no matter what the bartender said) in his manly, hairy hand. Conceding that just this once, maybe Donna was right, he turned and headed to the dance floor._

\--

“Another banana daiquiri, please. Dancing’s thirsty work.”

A man with anything less than super-human hearing would have missed the quiet noise of a throat clearing off to the side of the bar; the Doctor, of course, had impeccable hearing, so he turned in an instant. “Oh, hello! Having trouble getting the barkeep’s attention? He’s a bit busy at the moment, but I’d be happy to order you something when he comes back with my daiq…drink.”

“White wine would be lovely. Ta.” He nodded and turned his attention back to the bar, bouncing in place as he waited.

“Your dance moves are an improvement over your singing, but I suppose that wasn’t a big leap”, she said with a smile.

“My what? Oh! Oh, you were at Donna’s hen night. Working the karaoke machine. Jeannie, right? Yeah…sorry about that,” he said, rubbing his neck in embarrassment, “I’d had a bad day and a bit too much to drink.”

The bartender interrupted, delivering his daiquiri and her wine - but the Doctor could see her smiling into her glass. He paused a moment, watching her drink and smile and (surreptitiously, he hoped) looking her over, from her strappy shoes to her glittering dress to the way she’d arranged her hair.

He rolled the base of his glass on the bar before setting it down with a clunk as the music slowed and the lights dimmed. “So” - he held out his hand - “interested in letting this mysterious if somewhat embarrassing stranger show you some more moves?”

She laughed and took him up on the offer. “You’re not a stranger, you know,” she offered once they were on the dance floor. “How could you be? I’ve known you since I was seven years old.” At his astonished expression, she explained. “Remember your impromptu neighborhood astronomy lessons? My cousin lived down the block from you; he’d drag me along when I visited in the summer.” He nodded, eyes wide. “I remember thinking you were a pretentious prick, to be honest. Charging your neighborhood kids to wave your knowledge of the stars in their faces.”

“But…but….everyone loved it!” he sputtered. 

“Yes, they did. I suppose I was a bit of a rebel, even then. Headstrong, my mother used to say.”

“And now here we are, all these years later,” she said, stroking his cheek. “Tell me, Doctor…can you teach a headstrong girl about the stars if she’s ready to listen?”

“Oh, I think I can. I think I can indeed.”

—

The rest of the night was an uncharacteristically slow (for the Doctor) and unusually informal (for Jeannie) blur - arms holding each other close on the dance floor, fingers twined together across (and under) the table, small hands untying a bow tie and larger ones unbuckling shoes, and small talk born of two people who’d known each other forever but didn’t really know each other at all. Before they knew it, Donna and Lee had said their goodnights and goodbyes, and the crowd had started to thin.

“I suppose we should…”

“Yes, I suppose we should.”

They grabbed the bits they’d shed over the evening - the Doctor slinging his jacket over his shoulder and Jeannie grabbing her clutch and impossibly high-heeled shoes - and headed hand-in-hand down the hallway toward the exit.

As they neared the doors, the Doctor struggled for the right words, for anything at all to say. “I feel like this night has gone incredibly fast and incredibly slow all at the same time, like we’ve somehow lived a lifetime in the space of a few hours. How is that even possible?”

“If we have, as you say, lived a lifetime, Doctor, then the only proper question is ‘why have we wasted so much time?’”

With a single move, Jeannie pushed him up against the wall and pressed her lips to his. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her impossibly close as time seemed to freeze around them.

She stepped back and was gone before he could un-purse his lips.

“Well,” he blinked. “Donna did say I should get into some trouble…”

—

**Next time:**

_Six Months After the Wedding…_

“Okay, I’ll admit it. You were right. Now open up.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's six months later, and change is in the air for everyone...

_Six Months After the Wedding…_

“Okay, I’ll admit it. You were right. Now open up.”

The Doctor opened the door to his flat to see Rose, wine bottle in hand and recently-dried tear tracks on her face. He didn’t have to ask - didn’t want to ask, if she wasn’t ready to talk - and settled for pulling her through the doorway and into a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” she admitted later, once she was settled on the sofa with a glass of wine. “I knew we weren’t a forever thing. And it’s not like he’s left me for another woman—”

“Or another man,” interrupted the Doctor.

“Yes. Or another man.” She batted him with a pillow before continuing, “I knew it was time. He was restless and unhappy, and I know he was always faithful to me, but he didn’t want to be. Jack just isn’t the type to be tied down.”

Rose curled up on her side, head in the Doctor’s lap like she’d done when they were kids.  “Anyway,” she continued, “I think this is good for me. Being with Jack gave me the confidence I needed, somehow…or maybe just the kick in the ass I needed. I don’t know. But either way? I’m going to do it. I’m going to spend a few more months at the Earth, maybe pick up some extra hours. But then? I’m going to travel, Doctor. Spend a few months just traveling the world. Go to America, to Egypt, to Japan…anywhere and everywhere that strikes my fancy. I might even write about it - start one of those online blog things.”

The Doctor beamed. “Oh, Rose. That’s wonderful! I mean, I’ll miss you - you’ll send postcards, right? - but I’m so very happy for you. Rose Tyler, World Traveler. Has a nice ring to it, yeah?”

“Yeah!” She laughed and sat up to take a sip of her wine. “Anyway - enough about me! How are things with you and Jeannie? And have you figured out what you’re going to do now that you’re an actual Doctor?”

“They offered me a position as a professor, actually. Seems my dissertation was quite the hit amongst the staff. I thought about going elsewhere - maybe talking to the team in Bern…but, well, to answer your first question - let’s just say I have reasons to stay local. In fact, I’ve asked Jeannie to live with me. Given her a key and everything.”

Rose’s surprise was plain.

“I know. It’s fast, and it’s entirely out of character for me. I don’t like feeling tied to anyone - not at all. But I feel like a different version of myself when Jeannie’s around - like the rest of the world doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Are you sure that’s a good thing, Doctor? You’re pretty great as you are - why do you need to be different?”

“It’s a good thing, I promise.” He tugged Rose over to him, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head affectionately. “I spend so much time being responsible, figuring out all the options and all the formulas and all the reasons why the world works the way it does…for once, it feels good to be impulsive. To be rash. To throw caution to the wind and just live a little.”

Rose tilted her head up to look at him, her breath catching ever so slightly at the look of pure joy in his eyes. “If you’re happy, Doctor, then I’m happy.” She raised her glass “to the Doctor and Jeannie - may you be happy in cohabitation…and may she not hate you for leaving dishes in the sink and dirty pants on the bathroom floor.”

“Here, here.”

“Oh! And while we’re toasting - I’m assuming you’ve talked to Donna this week?” She laughed and nodded. “In that case, here’s to Donna and Lee and their wee little parasite.”

“Oy!” Rose elbowed him in the ribs, “That’s no way to talk about your best friend’s baby. To Donna and Lee, an easy pregnancy and a healthy baby.”

“Do you think I can get it to call me Uncle Doctor?”

—

**Next time:**  it’s two years later, and Eoghan McAvoy has the Doctor wrapped around his little finger - and vice versa. But Eoghan’s not the only one in Doctor-adoration mode. For a little while, at least, the entire universe really does seem to revolve around the Doctor.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s two years later, and Eoghan McAvoy has the Doctor wrapped around his little finger - and vice versa. But Eoghan’s not the only one in Doctor-adoration mode. For a little while, at least, the entire universe really does seem to revolve around the Doctor.

_Two years later…_

“Zoom goes the space ship! Zooooooom!”

Eoghan squealed from his position atop the Doctor’s bent knees. “Soaring through space…faster than the speed of light…dipping around the stars….” He straightened his legs slightly, increasing the incline of the precariously balanced toddler whose hands he gripped tightly.

“Oi! Careful there, spaceman.”

“I’ve got him, Donna!” The Doctor twisted his head off the floor to look at her, glancing back every few seconds at Eoghan to keep him stable. “Angles and friction and everything calculated right in my head. He’s perfectly safe,” he said, bouncing his legs a bit to keep the toddler occupied.

“I didn’t mean  _him_ , Dumbo. I meant you. He just ate a big lunch, and I know how much you’d hate it if he threw up on your suit.”

“Aaaaaaand we’re docking with the space station!” The Doctor lowered Eoghan to the ground, tickling his sides to soften the abrupt end to their interstellar journey. He rolled on to his side and watched his favorite tiny human toddle over to his mum. “You could have warned me, you know.”

“Nah. What’s the fun in that? Besides, don’t you need to be getting back? It’s quarter past.”

“Argh! Yes!” The Doctor scrambled to his feet, pressing a kiss to Eoghan’s head and Donna’s cheek on the way. “The students get so peculiar when I’m late. Like they all have somewhere better to be? Anyway - see you for tea!”

Donna watched him run down the walk. “I tell you, Eoghan, he eats more than you and your Dad combined - and he doesn’t even live here!”

The boy tilted his head. “Doktah?”

“Yes, you adorable little thing. That’s the Doctor. The question is, what are we going to do with him?”

—

A few days later, the Doctor sat at a table in a small cafe, glasses askew, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, and one hand buried deep in his hair, as he pondered the papers in front of him. “Parasites living in a glacier on Mars? What are these idiots thinking?”

“Oh, I dunno. Sounds plausible to me.”

He spun in his chair, knocking over his (thankfully empty) mug in the process. “Rose! When did you get back?”

Rose laughed as he jumped up and pulled her into a hug. “Just now, actually. Stopped here to grab a cuppa before I head home; as you can probably imagine, I’ve got nothing in.”

“Can you sit for a while? I’d love to hear all about it! You know, see what terrible things those tour guides taught you, correct any misconceptions. And I know you’ve been holding out on me - what sorts of trouble did you get into? Spend the night in any foreign prisons?”

Rose ordered them both fresh tea, along with some pastries, and sat back to share the tales of her travels.

Over the past year, they’d shared bits and pieces of their lives with each other via postcards, email, and the occasional phone call. As the months went on, she found herself wishing she could share many of those precious moments with him in person - holding his hand in foreign marketplaces, listening to his lectures about different cultures, and seeing things through his eyes.

Now, as Rose filled in the details of her adventures through America, Egypt, Romania, New Zealand, Tanzania, and Peru, she found herself peppering her anecdotes with statements like “I wish you could have seen…” and “Oh, Doctor, you would have loved…”

She caught herself after one too many similar statements and excused herself under the guise of freshening up from her trip. Once in the bathroom, she locked the door behind her and leaned against the wall with a sigh.

She’d missed him, for certain. She knew she’d be happy to see him again. But she hadn’t expected the punch to her gut that came from seeing him after so long away. His new position as a professor clearly agreed with him - he seemed more confident and more self-assured, in a calm way that his previous ego and boisterousness could never match up to.

And the way he treated her - no longer protecting her like a china doll, but looking at her like an equal. She’d noticed the shift in their conversations over the past year, but chalked it up to the distance, and the disconnect over thousands of miles. But now…

“Ugh. What am I doing?” she mumbled to herself. “I’m sitting at that table making cow eyes at my best mate like some lovesick teenager. Get it together, Rose!”

She splashed some water on her face, took a deep breath, and headed back to the table.

“So, how’s Jeannie?”

—

“Wait, so she’s really off at an orchid competition?” Rose asked, toeing off her shoes inside the doorway of the Doctor’s flat.

“Yep! Malaysia this time, but she travels all over the world. Buys first-class seats for her plants and everything. It’s quite the mixture of art and science, orchid cultivation. It’s not just gardening - you have to worry about their metabolism, the right light, the right mist…some people really go to extremes. I met one guy who has a jaguar for his orchids. Not a capital-J Jaguar - a fuzzy, prowling jaguar! Can you believe it? Anyway, thanks for coming back to the flat. I get awfully tired of sitting in cafes - I usually go to Donna’s, but she’s been bitching about my caloric intake lately, not that that’s any of her business. Ooh, bitching. That’s one of Jeannie’s words. Bitching. Not sure I like that. Doesn’t fit the teeth. Bitching. Grumbling? Bemoaning? Whining? Oh! Wine! Right. Go ahead and grab a seat - I’ll get us some wine.”

They sat on the floor, backs against the sofa and legs splayed out before them, as they caught up on the last year of their lives. Their stories spun a web around the evening - stupid things his students did, strange foods she encountered (and ate), the paper he was writing about black holes, the evening she spent camped out under the Northern Lights.

“I really wish you could have been there with me.” She reached between them and grabbed his hand, using it to gesture in the air in front of her. “The sky just turned this unbelievable shade of green. It looked so alien and so, so beautiful.”

She turned her head to see him watching her intensely.

“Mmmm. Aurora Borealis. I could have told you about the collision of photons with the solar wind and our planet’s atmosphere,” he said softly, “or about the way that earth’s magnetic field traps them and holds them tight. Your own personal astronomy lesson.”

“Yeah,” she swallowed. “That would have been good.”

Rose glanced down at her feet, taking note of the empty wine bottles scattered before them. “It was also very cold, you know? Northern latitudes and all that. I had a sleeping bag, but I was thinking…you could have kept me warm? You know, body heat. Better with two?”

He squeezed her hand, begging her with the gesture to look up at him again.

When she turned, his face was just inches away.

“Rose.”

—

**Next time:**  spoilers. ;P


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up between the Doctor and Rose...

_“It was also very cold, you know? Northern latitudes and all that. I had a sleeping bag, but I was thinking…you could have kept me warm? You know, body heat. Better with two?”_

_When she turned, his face was just inches away._

_“Rose.”_

—

“Hypothermia is a very dangerous thing,” he offered, voice low, “especially when you’re likely to be distracted by something as breath-taking as the Northern Lights.”

He turned his body toward her, shifting just slightly, and reached out his arm, dragging his fingertips across her stomach to grasp at her waist.

Rose shivered.

“Now, now,” the Doctor whispered, moving closer. “It wouldn’t do to have you catch a chill in a location as ordinary as my flat, now would it?”

In a moment of sudden shyness, he glanced down to where his thumb was drawing circles on her hip. “I could warm you up? If you want?”

 

He looked up, their eyes locked, and there it was - the moment they’d each been waiting for, Rose for months and the Doctor for a lifetime.

A beat. A shared breath.

And the moment was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

She could tell the instant things got too intense for him - knew exactly when he’d decided to run from her, from this.

“Did you know,” he asked in his regular ‘I’m so impressive’ voice as he sat up, “that Jeannie and I almost never fight?”

Rose felt her heart crumble.

“No, really!” he said, reaching behind him for his wine glass. After downing its contents, he continued. “We only ever fight about one thing. Just one thing. It’s not money, or intimacy, or even me leaving my pants on the bathroom floor.”

Rose raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to get on with it already and break her heart.

“You, Rose Tyler. We fight about you.”

She blinked in confusion and opened her mouth to speak, but he began again before she had the chance.

“She says I’m afraid to commit because I’m in love with you,” he slurred, more to his wine glass than to her. “And she’s ab-so-lute-ly right.”

For a few painfully long moments, neither of them spoke or looked at the other, paralyzed by the Doctor’s wine-induced confession.

It was Rose that broke the stalemate.

“You know something, Doctor?” Rose reached over and slid his wine glass from his fingers, settling it on the carpet behind his knees. “Jack said the same thing about me.”

—

It didn’t matter who leaned into who, and this was no fairytale kiss. Their lips met with the force of desires long-hidden, but their mouths moved with sloppy, inebriated impatience.

He tugged at her waist, pulling her in to him. She yanked at his tie, wanting more contact and simply out of the sheer need to grab, to pull, to tug at something, anything.

A voice in the back of Rose’s head nattered on about orchids and keys, but it was muted by the soft buzz of the wine. The voices she could hear, the voices she listened to, loud and clear and in chorus, shouted “finally”.

A wine glass kicked over. The button of a cuff tangled in hair. A dance of fasteners and zips and sloppy kisses and stumbles down the hall.

Gentle kisses against the bedroom door.

The first skin-to-skin contact, chest pressed against chest.

Not-so-gentle kisses against the wardrobe.

The last bits of cotton and lace removed.

Reverent kisses. Silly giggles. A sloppy tussle.

This - whatever  _this_  was - wasn’t poetry. It wasn’t even particularly pretty. It wasn’t tender or sweet or soft or an epic coming together, destined to be fodder for songs and stories.

It was hot and clumsy and loud, a haze of bumped noses and clashing teeth and bodies moving with no rhythm or finesse, but plenty of pressure and friction. It was tangled sheets and tangled limbs and words shouted and words whispered - words like “finally” and “yes” and “Rose” and “sleep now. I’ve got you.”

It was oh-so-perfectly  _them_.

—

Rose stretched, cataloguing the pounding in her head, the cottony feeling in her mouth, the bright sunlight streaming into a window that was decidedly not in  _her_  bedroom, sheets that were decidedly not her sheets…naked. She was  _naked_!

She turned her head to get her bearings and looked directly into a pair of warm brown eyes.

“Hello!” he said softly, reaching out to caress her shoulder. “There’s water and aspirin on the nightstand if you’d like.”

Rose rolled over and reached out, knocking back the pills with a swig. She had a moment’s thought of feeling grateful and well taken care of before her world - and the glass in her hand - fell and shattered.

The crash brought the Doctor to her side in a heartbeat. “Rose? Rose! Love, what’s wrong? What happened?” When she didn’t answer immediately, he followed her line of sight to the clock on the nightstand…and the single carved orchid that adorned it.

“Doctor, what have we done?”

\--

Next time: well, what have they done? Conversations and ramifications.


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, what have they done? Conversations and ramifications.

_Rose rolled over and reached out, knocking back the pills with a swig. She had a moment’s thought of feeling grateful and well taken care of before her world - and the glass in her hand - fell and shattered._

_“Doctor, what have we done?”_

The Doctor wrapped his arms around Rose’s waist and held her close. “Rose, love? What is it?”

“What is it?” She jumped to her feet, heedless of her nakedness. “How can you say that? We’re lying here naked in your bed - the bed that you share with Jeannie when she’s not off orchid-ing. Naked because we shagged last night. In your bed. The bed you share with Jeannie. And you’re asking me what’s wrong? I can’t believe you!”

Rose stormed out of the room and down the hallway, collecting the bits of clothing strewn about the flat.

“Rose!” The Doctor grunted in frustration and fell back on the bed, scrubbing his hands across his face. He had to fix this. Had to make it better. “I can deal with Jeannie later,” he thought. “But right now I need to fix this, fix Rose. Let her know it will all be okay.”

He padded down the hallway and grinned at the sight of Rose - in her bra and knickers, an unbuttoned blouse, and a single sock - digging her bare toes underneath the sofa’s edge. “Missing something?”

“I can’t find my other sock. Or my jeans.”

The Doctor nodded toward the kitchen, where her jeans lay folded on the island, topped by her missing sock. “Sorry. I’d started tidying up before you woke. Didn’t mean to distress you.”

“Distress me? DISTRESS ME? Doctor, we’ve just gone and done something terrible, made a horrible mistake, and you’re standing there looking positively smug and rambling about tidying up. How can you be so calm? And for God’s sake, can you put some pants on?!”

“Rose.” He started toward her, but stopped in his tracks when she stiffened. “What we did wasn’t horrible, or a mistake. Unexpected, yes. But not horrible - and not at all unwelcome. Can we please just sit down and talk for a minute?”

Rose glanced up from where she had focused on fastening her jeans, carefully averting her eyes, and considered her options. Talking wouldn’t make it worse, she supposed, and perhaps they could at least do some damage control…

“Fine. But just  _talking_. And seriously, Doctor -  _pants._  You need some.”

He glanced down at his nakedness with a smirk. “Okay, fine. I’ll just go and do that, then. Can you put the kettle on?”

—

Ten minutes later, a fully-clothed Doctor and Rose sat stiffly on the opposite ends of the sofa, cradling their tea and carefully avoiding eye contact.

“So.” Rose opened.

“Yes. So. Rose. Whatever may have happened, whatever may happen from here on out…I want you to know. No, I need you to know. If this was bad, if this was a mistake, I don’t care. Because you’re Rose. You’re  _my_  Rose. And you’re the mistake I’ll always make.”

He shifted to look at her, expecting a smile or a questioning look, and was surprised by the clear signs of offended disbelief on her face.

“Rose! No, no, Rose, no. I meant that as a  _good_  thing. I meant…oh, I’m rubbish at this.”

She stood. “Maybe I should just go.”

“What? No! Rose, please. Let me start over. Give me a chance to not make an utter mess of things.”

She returned to her seat, but her posture clearly said she didn’t expect to stay long; he gave her a moment to settle in (he hoped) before continuing.

“I don’t think this was a mistake. Primarily because it’s you and me - the two of us together. Our entire lives, we’ve had adventures together…but no mistakes. No regrets.” He unconsciously reached out for her hand, brushing her fingers with his before she abruptly pulled away.

“The other thing, though - and this is my fault for not explaining, but there was so much wine, and my brain was a little fuzzy, and then we were kissing, and oh, Rose, you’re an excellent kisser, I could spend weeks just kissing you, and—”

Rose cleared her throat, bringing him back to reality.

“Oh! Sorry. Yes. As I was saying - it’s about Jeannie.”

Rose’s posture, which had started to relax during the Doctor’s rambled, immediately stiffened. “Really? You want to talk about her  _now_?”

“Just hear me out, okay? Jeannie says we’re meant to love all sorts of people. She’s not the possessive type, Rose, and I don’t see why—”

“But you  _are_ , Doctor! Our entire lives, I’ve watched you lay claim to theories, to ideas, to stars, to people that don’t even come close to belonging to you. You’re the most possessive bloke I know!”

“Things change, Rose.”

“Obviously! So tell me - what else has changed, Doctor? You’ve always been changeable, always trying some new outfit, some new trend…but underneath the foppishness and the frippery and the leather, you were always  _you_. God, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore! You’re changing, Doctor, for certain. Jeannie’s clearly seen to that. The question is, what are you changing into?”

“How can you say that?” the Doctor sputtered. “I am the same man -  _always_ the same man. I’d have expected you of all people to understand that. This is me, and this is me giving you what you want - what we both want! - and you’re throwing it back in my face. I expected more from you, Rose. I expected better.”

The silence, sudden after so much yelling, hung between them with the tension of an arrow about to fire.

“I can’t do this. I need…I don’t know what I need. I need to get some air. Let yourself out. Or not. I don’t much care.”

Rose could do nothing but stare in shock as the Doctor slammed the door behind him.

When the Doctor arrived home three hours later, soaked to the bone from the rain, throat hoarse from screaming at the world and eyes red from holding back tears, the flat was empty except for a note on the kitchen island, weighted down by an empty wine glass.

_“You’re always running, Doctor. Running from your issues, running from your feelings, running from reality. It’s like you’re just…running wild across the universe, and you don’t care for anyone’s feelings except your own. And now you’re running away from me too._

_This isn’t a game, Doctor, at least not for me. So do what you do best, and keep running. There’s nothing left to say._

_~Rose.”_

—

_Three days later…_

“Rose. It’s me. I know you’re in there - Donna said you’d be home. I know you’re mad. But please…let me in?”

The door opened without a word. “Rose, I wanted to—” Rose’s flat, normally cheerfully decorated and chock-full of  _stuff_ , was nearly empty, except for the boxes that lined the walls.

He swallowed. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ve been hired to do some travel writing. It was meant to start at the end of the year, but…well, I asked them to move it up a bit. Figured a bit of travel would clear my head.”

“But your flat?”

“They offered me a long-term contract. I’ll be gone at least a year. I wasn’t going to accept, but…”

“Rose. You don’t have to go.”

“S’just a job, Doctor. I need a job - I don’t fancy working at the Earth in between travels  for the rest of my life.”

“No, I mean you  _really_  don’t have to go. There’s a position at the University. My University. Well, I say mine - the one where I teach. Anyway, it’s part of the International Business program - they need someone to teach on world cultures and travel. They had their eye set on someone already - even had the paperwork in hand - but I talked to them, pulled a few strings, did a few favors, and bam! The job is yours.”

Rose was speechless - all she could do was blink.

“Don’t you see? This way we can be together. On campus, anyway. Your office is tiny, but it’s in the building next to mine, so we can have lunch together, grade papers together…that’s just while I’m sorting out things with Jeannie, of course. She’ll be in Malaysia for another week, and I imagine there’ll be some fighting when she gets back - she’s into the free love thing but she’s awfully jealous of you. Anyway, I’ll sort things out there, and then I was thinking we could maybe get a flat together? Carpets, doors, windows, mortgage, the whole deal? Share a commute? Then in the summers we can travel - anywhere in the world you like. Maybe go keep you warm while we watch the Northern Lights? See, I bet you think I don’t remember that - but I do. I wasn’t that far gone. The wine just made things a bit hazy—”

He broke off. The set of her jaw, the way she was shaking her head - something wasn’t right.

“Rose?”

“I cannot believe you. Of course, I don’t know why I’m surprised. How can you assume I want that - any of that? How DARE you try to keep me here, keep me grounded, keep me with you, lay out my life like it’s some story you’re writing and I’m just a character that gets no say in the matter? I’m not yours to play with, Doctor, and neither are you mine. Go home to Jeannie. I’m going to Peru.”

“No. No. NO! Don’t you see, Rose? Now  _you’re_  the one that’s running away. And I won’t let you run away from this.”

“From WHAT? A drunken one-night stand between good friends?”

The pointed words, meant to wound, hit their mark.

She watched him stand, mouth gaping, for a few moments before turning to walk toward the front door, suitcase in hand. Quick as a flash, he was next to her, hand wrapped tight around her upper arm.

“Let. Me. Go.”

“No. Not unless you say you’ll stay with me.”

“Don’t you dare!” Rose twisted out of his grasp and bolted for the door. “Is this what it comes to, then?” she asked, one foot out the door, not daring to turn around and look at him. “You don’t get your way, and you turn into a thug like Owen? Thanks for that, Doctor. Have a great life.”

The snick of the door closing behind her echoed louder in the empty space than any slam ever could.

The Doctor leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, arms resting upon trembling knees.

He lost track of the time he spent watching dust clouds move and shadows cross the floor. He woke the next morning, a crick in his neck and a puddle of drool shining in the sunbeam on the hardwood floor…and a pair of shoes - no - feet! at his head.

“Rose?!” he sat up quickly, cracking his head on the wall.

“S’just me,” Donna said, settling down next to him. “But she called from the ground in Lima. She’s safe. Not okay, but safe.”

His eyes, which had brightened at the mention of Rose’s name, quickly filled with tears.

“She’s really gone, then? For good?”

“Yeah. She’s really gone.”

—

**Next time:**  Five years on is when everything changes. No disrespect to Captain Jack, but you can never be ready. Not for this. Will the Doctor and Rose reconcile? Did Donna smash his manly bits to, well, bits? Did Jeannie’s orchids win the grand prize*? Find out in the harrowing conclusion to our tale!

_*Not really._


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years on is when everything changes. No disrespect to Captain Jack, but you can never be ready. Not for this. Will the Doctor and Rose reconcile? Did Donna smash his manly bits to, well, bits? Did Jeannie’s orchids win the grand prize*? Find out in the harrowing conclusion to our tale! **TW: minor character death.**

_“Rose is really gone, then? For good?”_

_“Yeah. She’s really gone.”_

—

_Five and a half years later…_

The Doctor stood in the light misting rain, Eoghan’s small hand held tightly in his, as he watched Donna hold it together in the face of condolences and supportive wishes.

So strong, that one. Always so strong.

He made a mental note to get her alone with a bottle of whiskey after the kids were in bed - she needed a chance to let someone else be the strong one for a while.

Lee’s death - so swift and so unexpected, had them all reeling. It seemed like only days ago that he’d woken up convinced that Donna and Eoghan were some sort of dream. The Doctor had stayed with Eoghan while a very pregnant Donna rushed Lee to the hospital, where scans told a horrifying tale: a grade IV brain tumor, so far advanced that they gave him eight weeks to live.

In the end, he made it six - just long enough to hold his newborn daughter, Leigh.

Two days later, he was gone.

—

At a loss for anything else to do, the Doctor leaned down and picked Eoghan up for a hug. This little one was so much like his mum. He hadn’t told Donna, but the night before Lee died, he’d woken up in tears to find  _Eoghan_ comforting  _him_. “It’s okay, Doctor,” he’d said, patting his head. “I need to be the man now, and that means taking care of you, too.”

What kind of world was this, the Doctor wondered, when a grown man is being comforted by a five year old whose father is dying? When a brilliant woman finds the love of her life, only to be widowed eight years on? When a beautiful baby girl will never know her father?

Eoghan squirmed out of his uncle’s too-long, too-light hug and ran to the corner to take up his favorite position - watching his baby sister sleep.

Relieved of his duties, at least for the moment, the Doctor set off to liberate Donna from the well-wishers.

—

Later that night, the Doctor puttered around Donna’s kitchen, drying dishes and putting things away while she took a phone call in the other room. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop - didn’t want to overhear - but he knew she was talking to Rose. And normally he’d be all over that, begging for details like a dog for scraps…but today was anything but normal.

When she emerged, he settled for a neutral “all right?”

“Yeah,” Donna said, sliding numbly into a seat at the table. “It was Rose. She feels awful that she couldn’t be here - storms or something keeping planes on the ground. She’ll be here in a few days, though.”

The Doctor slid a cup of tea in front of her and nodded. “Good. Good.”

“I don’t suppose I can get the two of you to talk this time? If not for my sake, then for the kids?”

He exhaled heavily. “It’s been five years, Donna. I don’t know that we’ll ever…anyway. I won’t fight it, not anymore. I’ll do anything for you and the wee ones, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. She misses you, you know. She never says, but I know. She always asks about you.”

He didn’t respond, so she glanced up at the clock. “It’s getting late. Don’t you need to get home to Jeannie?”

He rubbed his ear and looked away. “I, uh…no. I moved out.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“You don’t need this right now, Donna. I’m fine. Promise.”

“Oi! I think I know what I need, thank you very much. And right now I could use a bit of someone trouble’s that aren’t mine. You said you’d do anything for me? This is what I need. Now spill.”

And so the Doctor spilled - how he and Jeannie had been screaming at each other, how she accused him of a lack of commitment, how she’s changed, how he has (“‘When we met,’ she said, ‘you were all put together and swish and pinstripes, and now you’ve devolved into name-brand hoodies and stupid velvet suits.’ She insulted my fashion sense, Donna, can you believe that?!”), how they keep secrets, how he hurts her.

“In the end, though, Donna, she kept saying that I’ve changed since Rose and I fell out. And she’s right. She’s absolutely right. It’s always been about Rose.”

He took a sip of the whiskey that suddenly appeared in front of him. “In fact - and I’m not proud of this - do you know what I said when I left? I told her that the night I spent in Rose’s was the best night of my life. That’s when she told me to leave.”

“So what now?”

“Well, I’ve got a place - a tiny flat, close to the university. It’s not much - mostly just a bed and a dresser, for now - but I have basement access so I can tinker away. Oh, I’ve missed the tinkering. Jeannie hated my tinkering. Anyway, there’s not an extra room, but I plan to get a pull-out so Eoghan can stay over whenever he likes. And Leigh, of course, when she’s old enough. I won’t be shirking my Uncle duties - you can be sure of that.”

“Look at us, huh? You single, me widowed, sitting alone in my kitchen trading war stories. I thought we’d be doing this in our 70s - never thought we’d be here in our 30s.” She raised her glass. “To good friends,” she toasted, wiping away a tear.

“To good friends.”

—

_Three months later…_

“I can’t believe how big they’ve gotten, Donna! It’s like I go away for a week, and they’ve been through a year!”

“I know! I feel like they grow overnight sometimes. You won’t need to miss a single day of it now if you don’t want to, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s good to be home - and home for good.”

“You sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah. I’m done traveling, at least for now. I love the writing, though, and I have enough freelance work to tide me over for a little while. Time that I hope to spend with you!” she cooed to Leigh, leaning over her on the floor where the baby played with her feet.

“I really wish you’d come around more often. We have so much to catch up on - and the kids love having you!”

“I know. I just…you know I don’t want to risk running into him.”

“Rose, how long are you going to let this go on? The two of you were friends for  _decades_  up until a few years back - is a single falling out really worth the loss of all that?”

“I don’t know, Donna. Maybe you’re right. It’s just…it’s easier to not deal with it, you know? I guess I don’t want to face up to all that, to revisit everything we said and didn’t say.”

“Well, you best figure it out sometime - now that Lee’s gone, if anything happens to me, the two of you are responsible for the kids.”

“Don’t even talk like that!”

“I mean it. Everything with Lee happened so quickly…I need to know that you and the Doctor will take care of them if something happens to me. They know you. They love you. But I need to know that they’ll be safe.”

“Of course, Donna. They’ll be safe, because they’ll have you. And if they don’t, the Doctor and I will make do. I promise.”

Rose lifted Leigh’s shirt and blew a raspberry on her stomach, filling the room with baby giggles.

“All right, you two. I hate to break up the party, but we need to head downtown - Leigh and I have a lunch date with Jack.”

“Give him my love, will you? I have a slightly less exciting lunch date with my mum - she’s volunteering at the hospital now!”

“Have fun with Jackie!”

“Will do. You ladies have fun with Jack!”

—

_Two hours later…_

The Doctor sighed and pulled his glasses from his face, settling back into his office chair. His students this semester were a bright bunch, but somehow that made them even more trying. A bit too much like him, he supposed.

His phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. He wasn’t going to answer - never did during office hours - but seeing that it was Donna, he grabbed the phone and hit “connect”. She’d been okay since she lost Lee, but he worried about her nonetheless.

The high-pitched wail of a distressed baby’s cry hit his ears before the phone did. “Donna? Is everything okay? Is that Leigh?”

“Doctor? It’s Rose.”

“Rose? What? I…why are you calling on Donna’s phone? Is that Leigh? Is she okay?”

“Doctor, Donna’s been hurt. You need to come. Right now. Please.”

“I’m on my way.”

—

_To be continued in **As the Sea Wears Down the Stone**!_


End file.
